


Fullfilling Prophecy

by Osiris_Brackhaus (Rynthjan)



Series: Bobby Dover [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, p2, phoenix empire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Osiris_Brackhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buying a new set of wheels is never simple, but in Bobby's case might just lead to the beginning of an extraordinary friendship...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wheels

Sunlight was beaming down relentlessly onto the outskirts of Disari. Away from the beach and the gentle breeze, the air was stale and dusty, and here at the rear end of town it smelled of rotting garbage and fuel. But there was no way around it. Bobby needed a set of wheels, anything that he could afford, and there was only one junkjard slash used vehicle sale he could reach. 

At least, Disari had a public transport network that was both affordable and working, not like the corporate-owned busses in Bellingham. And given the lovely weather, Bobby wouldn't have minded walking here. But he had two jobs, and getting out here cost him time he didn't really have. 

But that was the whole point of his little expedition: The flat Vian had found him here in Disari was cheap and really nice, but it was also not really close by the café he worked in the afternoon and even further away from the music club he worked the night shift. Vian had gotten him a first-rate reduction on the rent, but Bobby still had to eat and everything, so money was scarce. Especially considering the prices here on P2. 

However he turned it, Bobby couldn't waste four hours per day walking to his job, nor two hours and the fee for the busses. Bikes were nice at night, but ridiculously useless in the heat of the day - arriving at the cafe all sweaty and worked up was the last thing he could use. After all, most of his tips came from being pretty. So he needed something motorized and cheap to help him get over the first few months until he had a little better idea of where this whole thing was heading. 

The Disari junkyard looked like so many other junkyards - vast, messy and pretty confusing. Everything was dusted with a fine layer of sand that stronger winds had blown here from the beach, and every here and there, tiny blue flowers grew between the carcasses of gliders and groundcars that seemed to be rotting here since decades. Nice enough for a junkyard, but Bobby was really more interested in the used vehicles this place was supposed to sell. 

There was indeed an assortment of not-quite-rotting groundcars lined up at the road. But that wasn't what Bobby had in mind. He had thought of something with two wheels, something that used cheap fuel and was light enough so he could carry it up the stairs into his apartment on the fourth floor until someone fixed the lift. Yeah, right. 

Taking a deep breath, Bobby stopped dawdling and walked into the corrugated steel container that, according to a hand-painted sign on top, contained the office. Of course, it was empty. It looked tidy enough, and pretty much as if someone had been working here until a few moments ago, but right now, it was completely deserted. 

There was a bell on the desk, but after ringing a few times and waiting another five minutes, Bobby came to the conclusion that it was mostly ornamental. 

He had almost decided to leave again when he heard the wail of some machine further back in one of the workshops. Knowing that he really, really needed some set of wheels, Bobby decided to be courageous for once and left the office in search for another living person. Outside, the noise was hard to overhear - some sort of more or less rhythmic wail that clearly came from the nearest workshop. 

The path through the piles of junk was barred with a low-hanging chain, the enamel sign reading 'For authorized personnel only' scraping on the dusty ground. With a sigh, Bobby stepped over the symbolic fence when he noticed something odd. 

Looking down, he found a small bundle of twigs tied to the back of the sign. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be a tiny broom, from a dollhouse or something, its handle painted bloody red. 

With a smile, Bobby stayed clear of the little charm and continued walking towards the source of the noise he kept hearing. This junkyard was supposedly run by two Youh'Kai, brother and sister. At least that was what his colleague in the night shift had told Bobby, but the little charm seemed to agree with his story. 

Even Bobby had heard the tale of Ynagra often enough to know what a red-handled broom meant to the Youh'Kai. It was a charm against anyone with evil intentions, and crazy beetle-eaters they were, basically every home had something like it. Well, Bobby admitted silently to himself - even he had one, now. Once he had moved into his own place in Disari, Vian's father Colin had shown up a mere twenty-four hours later. 

Sir Colin had been very polite, a little embarrassed even. He had explained that being with Vian brought Bobby rather close to a family that dealt with all sorts of villains on a daily basis, and he had insisted on leaving a little charm just in case. So he had pulled out a little bundle of actual twigs and had nailed it to the lintel of the entrance door to Bobby's apartment. It looked innocuous enough, admittedly, and smelled rather nice. But it was a broom, even if maybe a symbolic one only. It sure did no harm other than looking funny, and since it was hanging there, no one with evil intention had crossed the threshold. Considering that Bobby couldn't even properly lock the door, that was quite an accomplishment already. 

Besides the small broom, Bobby didn’t find any more trinkets on his way to the workshop, though. It was just an ordinary junkyard, as far as he was concerned, and hopefully a place where he could buy a set of wheels. 

Once at the workshop, it didn’t take him long to find the source of the noise he had been following – the wide doors were standing open, and a young Youh’Kai woman was busy grinding some sort of curved sword on one of the stones, sparks flying in a wide arc. 

“Hello?” Bobby tried to gain her attention, but to little avail. On top of the noise, she was wearing earplugs, and pretty obviously hearing some music. At least, the way she moved looked pretty much as if she were dancing to some tune.

“Hey, there, SORRY!” Bobby tried again, this time with more volume. “CAN YOU HELP ME?”

Apparently, with the last word he had stepped into her field of vision, because suddenly she spun around, sword in hand. Faster than Bobby could follow, she hurled the weapon away and instead pulled out a small gun that she had tugged into her belt, and aimed it quite expertly at Bobby. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” she yelled at him. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Instinctively, Bobby raised his hands. Maybe her reaction was just a little over the top, but one didn’t argue with startled Youh’Kai, and besides, she really looked like she knew how to handle that gun. 

Judging by her looks, she seemed a lot more comfortable with the gun in her hand than with anything else one would usually expect to find on a junkyard. She was only wearing rather tight tan cargo pants and a mostly clean white sports bra, leaving a lot of room to show of lean, hard muscle under her deep green skin. Her bone ridges were not carved, but painted in places, and her skin was tattooed with cheap, very pop-culture looking motives in garish tones of yellow and orange. Her hair was cut short and dyed a wild mix of orange and pink, although dark roots were showing. All together, she was probably the least Youh’Kai looking Youh’Kai Bobby had ever seen. 

“I wanted to buy a motorbike.” Bobby tried to answer her, his hands still raised, but his words were drowned out by the sound of the still running machine. 

The woman frowned, then took out her headphones. Politely, Bobby pointed at the machine without lowering his hands. She frowned again, but then switched it off, never taking her eyes of Bobby or lowering her gun. 

“What the fuck do you want?” she asked, this time without yelling. “Who sent you?”

“I wanted to buy a motorbike.” Bobby stated again, though his interest was waning by the second. Being held at gunpoint wasn’t necessarily a good way to establish customer trust. “You sell them, I need one.”

“Nobody comes here to buy anything,” she spat. 

None the less, her aggression seemed to diminish at least a little. Not enough for her to lower her gun, but at least she didn’t clench her jaws any longer. She was surprisingly pretty, Bobby realized, even though it was in a rather harsh, unromantic way, and only a few years older than himself. Just in case, he didn’t lower his hands just yet. 

“I was told I could come here for a good deal,” Bobby started again. “But if it’s the wrong time, I could try to find something somewhere else…”

She was just about to answer as one of the back doors of the workshop was pushed open and one of the biggest Youh’Kai Bobby had ever seen came in, carrying a huge tire in each of his arms. 

He froze as soon as he spotted Bobby being held at gunpoint by the Youh’Kai woman, his face a cautious, mildly annoyed frown. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice a rumbling basso. 

“He just appeared out of nowhere!” she snapped, wriggling her gun at Bobby. 

“I was trying to buy a motorbike.” Bobby stated once more, not quite managing to keep his own irritation out of his voice.

But apparently, the huge Youh’kai didn’t care one bit about the ruffled feathers on either of them. 

“Goodness, sis, get a grip.” He picked up the tires again and hauled them onto a pile in one corner. “We need customers.”

“He could have seen ANYTHING!” she insisted, pretty much ignoring Bobby by now.

“So what,” her brother replied with a shrug. “The illegal stuff’s all in the rear.” 

His sister reacted with an angry hiss, her dark skin turning a shade darker still. But at least, she stopped pointing her gun at Bobby, and instead put it back into the rear of her pants, which Bobby took as a clue he was allowed to take down his hands, finally. 

“Also, if I wanted to cause any trouble,” Bobby attempted to show off his knowledge of Youh’Kai culture, “I wouldn’t have been able to pass the Ynagra charm on the way here.”

“The what?!” the sister asked, her face showing that she was thinking about expressions a lot less polite.

“Ynagra, sis,” her brother jumped in. Seeing nothing but vaguely insulted confusion on her face, he added: “The charm mum forced us to put up? The one that’s supposed to keep evil away?”

“You believe in that shit?” she asked Bobby, now genuinely surprised.

“Huh, I?” This was definitely not going the way Bobby had thought it would. “Don’t know. Most Youh’Kai I’ve met did believe it, though.”

“What fucking feral freaks have you met?”

"Those who live on Espen?"

"There's feral Youh'Kai on Espen?" She genuinely seemed appalled by the thought. "Damn, one more reason never to go there." 

Apparently not considering Bobby a threat any longer, she picked up the sword from the floor and cleaned the blade on the leg of her pants. With a professional expression, she examined the edge, frowned, and walked over to another machine. The thing broke into a hellish howl as soon as she switched it on, making it quite obvious that she considered her part in the conversation over. 

Luckily, her brother had a little more sense for business than her. With a conspiring smile, he gestured Bobby to follow him out of the workshop. As soon as they were outside, he closed the heavy, barn-style doors, locking in most of the noise. 

"Please excuse my sister," he said with a wide smile. "She doesn't get along too well with people." 

"No harm done," Bobby replied as politely as he could. "Though it was a close call for sure."

The Youh'Kai had one of the most unusual skin colors Bobby had ever seen, a pale green that was best described as 'creamed leeks'. Especially now in the sunlight, it had a matte, make-up look that was so odd that Bobby had a hard time not staring. The bulging muscles he was sporting under his cheap undershirt didn't make it any easier. 

"So, you said you wanted a motorbike?" his companion asked. "Are you looking for anything special?" 

"Cheap." With a shrug and a wry smile, Bobby added: "I'm quite short on cash, but I need something to get to work, so...

"Okay, and apart from cheap? What kind of engine?" 

"No idea. Cheap?" That one brought him a wide smile from his companion. 

"I think I get your point. M'tini will probably kill me for this, but I think with a little bit of luck we can cobble something together that shouldn't be too expensive."

"Sorry, who?" Bobby asked, rather sure he must have had misheard the name. 

"M'tini, my sister." With a gruff sound, he extended his hand to Bobby. "And I'm B'cardi, by the way." 

Bobby still wasn't too sure he had heard that right. 

"Those are... really unusual names," he said, shaking the offered hand mostly in reflex.

"Goodness, yes, tell me about it." Apparently, B'cardi had heard that remark quite a few times before already. "Our parents thought we ought to have human names, so we wouldn't stick out so much." 

"They really named you after drinks?" 

"What can I say, they had a funny phase at that time of their lives. It still beat the other options by a mile, if you ask me. Hypie and Alex, can you believe it?"

"No, actually, not really." Damn, those kids had really been lucky if those had been the other options. "But I agree, it could have been much worse."

B'cardi laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that was imminently charming. "We've had those names all our lives, so don't worry. Do you have a name, too?"

"I'm Bobby, Bobby Dover. Sorry, but your names really made me lose a beat there." 

Again, B'cardi grinned. Quietly, he beckoned Bobby to follow him into a ramshackle shed that ran along most of the far side of the junk yard. Inside, it was dark, hot and dusty, and the smell of motor oil and fuel was thick in the air. 

"Here we keep the stuff we might still take apart for spares," B'cardi explained. "I've got a moped here that should work fine for you."

"A moped..." Bobby replied slightly unenthusiastic. That sounded a lot less sexy than he had hoped, but then again, if it really was such a bargain... "How much?" 

"Don't know. Thirty credits?" the Youh'Kai suggested. "I tried fixing the headlights, but I eventually gave up. No idea why the fucking thing isn't working. I could take it apart, but it'll be years until we'd need a single spare of that kind, so..." 

With a pleased grunt, B'cardi shoved a pile of dusty tarpaulins aside and produced a slightly tired-looking moped from underneath. The formerly blue paint was faded to the color of moldy rice and dotted with a fine misting of rusty specks much like freckles. 

"It's a good model," B'cardi added further, "it'll probably still run in a century or so, if it hasn't rusted to bits by then. Runs on electricity from the standard grid, so fuel shouldn't be a problem."

A moped without headlights was pretty much the last thing Bobby would have wanted to buy, but on the other hand, thirty credits was a great deal less than he had feared. At least, at this price he could give it a try and see if he could figure out a way of not getting killed on the road at night with this thing. 

"Sounds fine with me," Bobby said finally. "Can you show me how to ride it?" 

"Sure." 

B'cardi lifted the moped off the ground and hauled it from its corner, barely showing more effort than it would have taken for an empty shopping cart. Wordlessly, he pushed it out into the yard, and Bobby followed him on his heel. A bit reluctant, he asked the question that had been bothering him since he initially decided to buy a set of wheels. "Will I need a license for this kind of vehicle?" 

"Huh?" B'cardi looked up, genuinely confused. "What kind of license?"

"Some sort of driver's license, you know, officially documenting I'm not a threat to the public on that thing." 

Again, B'cardi laughed, this time with a decidedly dark edge. "You really haven't been here very long, have you?" 

Bobby shook his head, not really understanding how he had exposed himself as an off-world bumpkin once again. 

"I mean, this ain't Imperial City, thank God," the Youh'Kai explained. "But it's still P2, and everyone here's a threat to public health. You think all these nobles on their ridiculously expensive hoverbikes will allow anyone to tell them how to drive? No, dear, as long as you don't want to join the taxi drivers' guild or something like that, nobody is going to ask you for anything like that. Just remember that cutting off a noble will give him a reason for cutting off your head, and you'll be fine."

"This... really sounds like I am very far from home."

"Considering the few things I know about Espen, I'm inclined to agree."

Indeed, he was very far from home here, Bobby agreed. And the thought that most people driving some sort of vehicle here had only the barest training made him eye the whole traffic with even more distrust than he had before. As much as he had cursed on Espen and at its countless rules and regulations, there was a certain feeling of safety that was distinctively missing here on P2. 

"Nice ink," B'cardi remarked suddenly. 

"What?" 

Instead of an answer, the Youh'Kai pointed at Bobby's side where his skinny T-shirt had slipped up and revealed the sinuous, green curves of Mother G'dina's tattoo that ran along his sides.

"I've never seen anything like this," he added, cocking his head as if that allowed him to see the parts of the tattoo still hidden by Bobby's shirt. "Is it a ba'ata? It almost looks as if one could read it." 

"Not as far as I know," Bobby replied, a little flattered by the attention. "But it has been done by a priestess of Khastai, so maybe the style's similar to a ba'ata."

"Seriously?" B'cardi's expression was an impressive mix between awe and apprehension. "Damn, you're more Youh'Kai than me, then. I mean, I've never met one of her priests, but fucking hell I would never let any of them do my ink. Those few I have hurt enough." 

Bobby shrugged, once again silently astonished by the bragging rights his tattoos brought him among the Youh'Kai. "I don't know. My Youh'Kai friends on Espen told me I was crazy, too. But they also considered it a great honor, and she was quite convincing. Also, I got it for free, so - how could I say no?"

"Fucking beetle eaters," B'cardi chuckled, eyeing Bobby from head to toe. "You like Youh'Kai hard rock?"

"I do. Quite a lot, actually." Bobby had to grin, remembering his first outing with T'sule and his gang that one Bonfire Night. "Why are you asking?"

"My sister and I are in a band. Just trying to get our first proper contract, and we have a gig tonight." Smiling widely, his pointy teeth oddly non-treatening, he pulled a folded-up flyer from his back pocket and handed it to Bobby. "Here. I think it would be cool if you came." 

"Thank you." Their show tonight was in some shady club at the fringe of Disari's night-club district, and actually not far away from where he was working. He could make it after work, if he wanted to. "You really think this is a good idea? I mean, your sister nearly shot me only a few minutes ago." 

"Nah, she likes you. If she didn't she wouldn't have wasted her time talking, you know?" 

Seeing that B'cardi meant that exactly the way he had said it, Bobby's smile grew a little shaky. But then again, the thought of finding new friends here on P2 besides Vian was rather comforting, even more so when those friends were Youh'Kai who knew how to handle their guns. 

"Sure, I'll see if I can come once my shift is over," Bobby accepted the invitation. "I am sure it'll be great." 

"Cool." Turning his attention back to the moped, B'cardi started: "It's really not much more complicated than riding a bike, you know? Look, here's the starter button, and here's...."


	2. Bare your Soul to Millions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A karaoke night out with Bobby, Vian, M'tini and B'cardi ends up with the most unexpected consequences...

„You fucking whiny sqet,“ M'tini snarled and grabbed Bobby's arm, yanking him with her violently. „Shut the fuck up and come with me!“

Bobby had just enough time to cast a calming glance over his shoulder, where he already saw Vian rise from his chair, his ears pointing to his sides almost horizontally, ready to do something violent. Yes, he really didn't want to go with M'tini, but that was still much preferable to Vian doing something rash and very violent that everyone would regret for the rest of their lives. At least, his glance seemed to convince Vian that no violent intervention was necessary.

And what was the worst that could happen on that stage anyway, Bobby told himself with an inward shrug. He had embarrassed himself already in so many ways, giving a bad karaoke performance was about the least of his worries. Besides, M'tini was right. She needed some way to vent her frustration. Drinking too much and belting out Youh'Kai hardrock hymns in a smoke-filled pub was not so bad a choice, considering the alternatives.

“Here!” M'tini barked and all but punched the microphone into Bobby's belly. “You take Pain.” With a growl that would have made a rabid wildebeest proud, she yelled into hers: “I. Am. RAGE!”

Bobby almost winced. 'Pain and Rage' was a classic, one of the great Youh'Kai rock songs that were popular even among the human population. One of Bobby's favorite songs, one of the very few he knew the Youh'Kai text to. It was a duet, of sorts, with two performers shouting, yelling, screaming their feelings as much against as together with each other. A great song, and bristling with raw, emotional power – but a surefire way of seeming entirely pathetic on a stage when you're not a professional.

Obviously, M'tini had no such qualms whatsoever. Hunched forward as if preparing to jump into their audience and kill a few of them, she swayed like some feral animal. When the music started, M'tini almost fried the sound equipment of the bar with a yell that was so loud it sent the whole array into a terrified feedback loop. The guy at the controls swiftly turned down her mike, but it only served to show everyone in the room that she didn't really need any sort of amplification – her anger was loud and raw enough to reach even the far corner of the pub.

When Bobby answered her yelled and screeched part, his voice was almost drowned out by the music. M'tini didn't seem to mind, lost in her own mind. There were a few sneers and laughs in the crowd, but nothing really rude. After all, he was on the stage with an intoxicated and very angry Youh'Kai, and nothing could really be worth the trouble this promised. In the rear, Bobby could make out Vian and B'cardi sitting at their table. B'cardi was slumped onto the table, hugging his beer, while Vian watched with appropriate compassion.

M'tini took over again, yelling out her anger against the world.

Bobby knew that her anger was directed at someone very particular – D'kone, the singer of her band. Or rather, the singer of her former band. Apparently, D'kone had been offered a contract by another up-and-coming act, signed up without a word to his friends and informed them this afternoon that their mutual band existed no longer. Considering just how justifiably angry she and her brother were, singing and drinking were incredibly civilized ways of dealing with this betrayal.

It was Bobby's turn again, and this time there were sneers in the audience even before he had started singing. It rankled Bobby, much more so than he would have thought possible. He wasn't a great singer or performer or anything, and he knew that. But he would be dammed if he'd give anything but his best effort, even if it was only to make sure his friend next to him didn't look overly manic. So Bobby swallowed the next line, took a deep breath and tried to remember the face of his mother when he told her that Wayne had been sold into slavery.

The image alone was enough to make his throat constrict with repressed tears of anger, and suddenly, it was rather easy to put the proper emphasis into the words of the song. Even the screaming and yelling felt natural, all of a sudden, as if Bobby had held back all these sentiments for years and was only now letting them out. It was cleansing, and the less he cared what anyone though of him, the easier it became.

With the next stanza, the two voices of the song started interweaving more and more. For the first time, Bobby felt as if he really connected to the song and its emotional background. It was exhilarating, liberating, wonderful. Even though he was singing about the raw pain he had suffered through, he felt amazing.

Suddenly, the song was over, much sooner than Bobby had thought. He was completely out of breath, his throat sore, but laughing. M'tini stood next to him, looking pretty much as if she was feeling the same. With a fluid motion, Bobby peeled himself out of his sweat-soaked skinny t-shirt and wiped himself down, ignoring the yells and whistles that came from the crowd. He merely flipped them the bird and slung his arm around M'tini, leading her off stage before she could order another song of that kind.

“You know,” she said, laughing under her ragged breath, “for a crazy softskin, you're quite alright.”

“What a luck you didn't shoot me when we first met, then,” Bobby retorted, also laughing.

Life was good. He had friends, good, honest friends, and time and money enough to spend an evening airing their miseries. And most of all, he had the most gorgeous boyfriend of the entire Empire.

“Now come here, you sexy beast,” Vian growled across the table when Bobby and M'tini walked up to them. “That was some pretty hardcore stuff you did there on the stage.”

Bobby shrugged, settled down on Vian's lap and finished his boyfriend's remaining beer in one long drought. “It felt great, just letting it out. I hope it wasn't too bad?”

“What? Have you ever seen yourself?” Vian shifted his weight under Bobby, his crotch suddenly pressing hot and hard against Bobby's thighs. “It was... very inspiring.”

“You horny bastard!” Bobby laughed out loud. Slinging his arms around Vian's neck, reveling in the sensation of his short fur against his naked arms, Bobby whispered: “So is is it back to my place or do you have to have me right here?”

Vian gave a choked laugh, shaking his head. “Your place. Less cameras.” He shivered deeply when Bobby gently touched the side of his ear “Now.”

“Guys, Vian and I are going home, is that okay with you?” Bobby asked, turning around to M'tini and B'cardi.

“I think we've had enough, too,” M'tini replied, somewhat disappointed. She grabbed her brother's head by his hair, lifted him a few inches off the table and let him drop again. “Cold out. What an embarrassment.”

“Will you get him home on your own or should we help?” Vian offered, always chivalrous.

M'tini laughed, a sinister and kind of evil sound. “Nah, don't mind us. I've gotten him safely home in other situations already. And I can smell you two have other plans. Just get out of my sight.” She snatched a pitcher off the table and angled for the remaining ice cubes. With an uncanny, trained motion, she shoved the ice into the back of her brother's pants and stepped away from the table.

Bobby and Vian didn't stay around to see how the two Youh'Kai would sort out the situation. Swiftly, they grabbed their jackets and headed out to the side of the pub where Vian had parked his hoverbike.

Vian unlocked the bike and was just about to get them their helmets from their compartment under the seat when a shy voice asked:

“I am sorry – would you mind?”

Bobby and Vian both looked up, finding a young human girl walking up to them. Her hands raised cautiously, she looked as if she already had a bad conscience for what she was about to ask.

“Would you mind if I'd take a picture with you?” she asked, a little emboldened by their calm reaction. “Just you and me, without your boyfriend?”

Another groupie, Bobby thought with a n inward sigh. Of course it was bound to happen, like every night when he was out with Vian. It was pretty rare here in Disari, though, as most fans already had a share of snapshots of Vian's family already. None the less, it was part of his boyfriend's job, and he'd better get used to it.

“Of course you can have him,” Bobby replied generously, taking a step back. “We're going home, but there sure is time for one picture.”

But instead of gleaming with gratitude, her face slipped into mild confusion. “But... I was asking for a picture with you...”

For a long moment, Bobby was at an entire loss of what to say. Was this some elaborate prank? Or a really confused fan with some particularly rare fetish on celebrities' boyfriends?

“Oh, of course you can,” Vian replied with a wide grin instead. Gently pushing Bobby forward, he added: “He's all yours.”

Now the girl broke into the familiar beaming smile. With a swift motion, she picked some tiny camera from out of her bag and stepped next to Bobby.

“Do you mind?” she asked, not waiting for an answer before she put her arm around Bobby's neck, smiled and took her picture. “You were so hot there, up on the stage, I just HAD to have your picture!”

Bobby didn't even have time enough to put any other expression onto his face than a politely confused smile. Then she put a quick, tiny kiss on Bobby's cheek and flounced off. “Awesome!” they still heard her say before she disappeared around the corner of the building, checking the picture she had just taken.

“What the fucking hell?” Bobby asked, still rather confused. “She kissed me!”

“Be grateful she did only that,” Vian replied, handing Bobby his helmet. He was grinning like stupid, so widely the fur on his cheeks started to ruffle. “Welcome to my world, honey. Welcome to my world.”

\---

A weird noise startled Bobby out of his blissful sleep. For a moment, he was wide awake, his heart racing, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

But there was nothing. Only the gentle wheeze of Vian sleeping like a baby underneath him, and the slow rising and falling of his chest. Within seconds, Bobby was half asleep again, nestling his head happily against his lover's chest. At first, Vian's short fur had weirded him out, but now, it felt just like it ought to. It felt like home.

With a soft grunt, Vian settled deeper into the pillows and pulled Bobby closer towards him. Outside, the sun was already shining brightly, but there should be another hour so before either of them would have to wake up.

With a loud crunch, the bedroom door was opened.

“So here you are!” M'tini hissed, quite obviously pissed beyond any manners. “What the FUCK were you thinking?”

Bobby sat up in his bed, struggling to get his mind working. He was reasonably sure he never had done anything in his life that would warrant this kind of reaction, so he guessed it was one of her tantrums again.

“What the fuck, Tini?” His eyes were still half-asleep, but the huge, greenish shadow behind her looked very much like her brother. Not a good sign if he was here as well.

“Why didn't you tell us?!” she snapped. “You think this is funny?”

“M'tini! Shut up. NOW.” Vian suddenly growled, his head still half hidden in the pillows. His growl was quite impressive, and it wouldn't have needed the slight shaking of the floor to make everyone in the room realize who exactly was lying there. Luckily, M'tini didn't press her luck any further and remained silent for a moment, just long enough for Bobby to get his wits together.

Bobby blinked a few times, and the shapes in front of the mattress on the floor that he called his bed indeed became M'tini and her brother. She looked terrible, tired and irate like a cat who had been forced to stay out in the rain for the night. Her face was even darker green than usual, and one side of her head sported that ridiculous kind of cowlick that one got from going to bed with too much product in your hair.

“Alright,” Bobby finally said. “I am sorry if I angered you. But please start at the beginning. And PLEASE let B'cardi do the talking.”

M'tini for a heartbeat looked as if she was about to reply something caustic, but then grunted and turned around on her heels. Without asking, she opened the floor-length window that led to the roof and walked out. A moment later, Bobby heard her lighting a cigarette.

“Why didn't you tell us you were a professional?” B'cardi asked, quite obviously trying to remain reasonable.

“I... What?” Even with a lot of imagination, Bobby had no idea what his Youh'Kai friend could be talking about. Certainly, he had been entertaining a few people for cash, but he had been young and needed the money. Sure this would be nothing the two would be upset about.

“Here.” B'cardi handed him a small device, its palm-sized screen showing a paused video of last night's outing together. “It's been all over the net.”

While Bobby was still trying to make sense out of any of this, Vian next to him finally decided to move. Smoothly, he pulled himself up onto his elbows next to him, craning his neck to see what B'cardi was showing them. Only when Bobby caught himself staring at Vian's body moving underneath the thin sheet they had been sleeping under, he realized that they were both stark naked, probably smelling of booze and sex and there was very little he could do to reserve any shreds of modesty that he could have had left.

So it was that kind of morning, apparently.

With a soft sigh of resignation, Bobby hit the 'play' button and watched. It was a shaky recording of the karaoke bit he and M'tini had done together last night. 'Pain and Rage', and even though the video quality was rather shoddy, the sound was excellent. And it sounded good, damn good. Actually, it sounded way too good to be real.

“Did someone dub this with a new version of the song?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

“It's the original recording,” B'cardi replied dry as a bone.

“You're fucking kidding me. Please tell me that you're fucking kidding me.”

Quietly, the massive Youh'Kai shook his head. “It's not even the worst. Forward to three minutes in, when they show the audience.”

In stunned silence, Bobby watched until the video panned around to show the audience around the person recording. All Bobby could see were faces full with emotion, their eyes fixed on the stage as if mesmerized. People cheering every time there was a faint pause in the screaming that came from the stage.

“You really should have told us you were a professional singer,” M'tini suddenly said from the window, leaning against the frame. “I mean, it's okay if some fucking squet like you doesn't want us to know, but I really don't get why you put up such a full performance then last night.”

“That was the first time ever I was on a stage,” Bobby feebly tried to explain. “I mean, discounting the few times I was pole dancing.”

“Don't fuck with me,” M'tini snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Bobby, searching for something really nasty to say. But her finger quivered in the air like an arrow drawn but not fired for a rather long moment. “Good Lord, you really have no idea...” she finally conceded.

“He is utterly clueless,” Vian remarked smugly from the sidelines. “I can assure you that much.”

“So I put on a good karaoke rendition of 'Pain and Rage' last night,” Bobby tried to salvage the situation. “What's so bad about that?”

“M'tini's phone's been ringing all night,” B'cardi explained. “Somehow everyone's got the impression that we're a band, and now they're trying to hire us.”

“They what?”

“At least, it royally pissed of that traitor D'kone,” M'tini added with a cruel smile. “He had a total bitchy meltdown on my voicebox. I am so going to save that message forever.”

“At least three of the calls have been from some agents, asking if we already had representation,” B'cardi continued. “Seems D'kone kicking us out was the best that could happen to us.”

“It is a totally shitty, anthropocentric thing that as soon as we got ONE lousy squet in our band, we get offers from all sides,” M'tini added. “But at least we know you're not going to let us down.”

“Let you down?” Somehow, Bobby was very sure he didn't like the way this conversation was headed.

“With our band,” M'tini replied. “You're going to work with us, of course.”

“Shouldn't you be asking me first?”

“You put up an application for everyone to see, last night.” Apparently, M'tini had already made up her mind. “And damn hell, you're going to sing with us before you sing with anybody else, or I'll rip your fucking tongue out.”

Completely at a loss, Bobby turned around to Vian, a pleading look on his face. But his boyfriend only sat there, the sheet barely covering his most private parts, grinning widely.

“You are going to be a rockstar!” Vian purred, visibly thrilled by the prospect. “The PR team will LOVE you!”

“I am not - “ Bobby protested faintly. “What the hell makes all of you think I have any place among you people with real talent? I screamed on stage, nothing more. I don't even think I could do this again, like last night, you know?”

“It's not really what you did,” M'tini explained, faintly annoyed. “It's that the audience lapped it up as if it was sex on tap. They can read you, they HEAR you. If that's not talent, I don't know what is.”

Behind her, B'cardi nodded solemnly. “We should try and have some sort of rehearsal as soon as possible.”

Gently, Vian nudged Bobby's shoulder. “You know, I may be terribly biased when it comes to you, but you really were great on stage. The music's style suited you, and you looked like a million credits in the spotlight. It is really hard to describe. It is as if you bared your soul for everyone to see. You should give it a try. At least, being a rock star should beat waiting tables.”

By then, Bobby was barely listening. Vian's words had reminded him of other words spoken to him two years ago, a lifetime away. And yet suddenly it felt as if those words were hanging right there in the air with him. The smell of fresh rain and clear smoke washed over him. “You will steal the heart of a fox,” the voice in the dark had said. “You will bare your soul to millions, and you will save the life of the most evil creature in existence.”  
As if sitting in an elevator that was going down to fast, Bobby suddenly had the feeling his world was sliding out from under him.

“Are you okay?”

Vian had grabbed Bobby by his shoulders, his face filling almost all of Bobby's field of vision. “Bobby, can you hear me?”

“I'm fine.”

“Good Lord!” Leaning his forehead against Bobby's, Vian gave a tiny sigh. His fur gently tickled, but it was nice sensation. “You were totally phased out there for a moment, love.”

“I am fine,” Bobby confirmed again. “I... just remembered something.”

“If you are really uncomfortable with the idea,” B'cardi suggested in the background, “we can always say it was just a one-time collaboration and try to find another lead somewhere else.”

“I am FINE.” Giggling with a sudden wave of elation that suspiciously felt like hysteria, Bobby waved away his friend's concerns. “Really. And I think there is little harm in joining you for rehearsals tonight. If only to show you how bad I really am.”

Stunned with this unexpected concession, both M'tini and her brother remained silent.

“Okay. Now that you've gotten what you came here for,” Vian stepped into the opening, “what about you two get lost to where you came from and leave me and my boyfriend alone?”

“Awesome idea, honey,” Bobby joined him. “Get lost, you beatle eaters, I'll see you at the junkyard tonight at eight.”

Still surprisingly quiet, the two Youh'Kai nodded and left. Now that the matter was settled, if only for the moment, there was nothing left to argue about. M'tini in particular looked as if she was going to keel over into her bed the very moment she arrived at home. They even had the decency to close the bedroom door behind them.

“Now what was that about?” Vian asked when he was sure they were gone, his voice tinged with concern. “Are you really okay with this?”

“I... yes and no.” Collapsing against his boyfriend, Bobby groaned deeply before he explained. “I don't want to, right now. I don't think I am talented, and I really don't think I should pretend to be. Especially so with people like M'tini and B'cardi, they worked so hard on their band, and it means so much to them.”

“But...?”

“But I... I think it is the right thing to do. It is meant to be.”

“That...” Vian hesitated. “That last bit very much didn't sound like the usual you.”

Bobby snuggled up closer to his boyfriend, taking in a deep breath along his neck. Maybe it was a little bit embarrassing, but the scent of his lover calmed him like nothing else.

“Do you believe in Gods?” Bobby finally asked.

Vian gave a funny sound, somewhere halfway between a chuckle and a scoff. Slipping back into bed, he pulled Bobby with him with gentle insistence, settling him on top of his chest. For a moment, he seemed to be thinking about Bobby's questions, his fingers playing with Bobby's red curls.

“That is a very difficult question,” Vian answered in the end. “I mean, gods are a very real thing in our household. So I don't know if I believe in them – I know they exist like you and me.”

“Good.” That would make the next step a lot easier. Bobby gathered his courage for another moment before he continued. “A few years ago, on Espen, Nach'Tarr spoke to me about my future.”

“Really?” Surprise, but not a trace of disbelief in Vian's voice. “He usually doesn't meddle in the lives of us mortals.”

“I don't think he meddled. It was more... I think he wanted to be nice, if that makes any sense.”

“He IS nice, as far as I have heard. Though that doesn’t explain why he was talking to you in the very first place.”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Huh? Not at all. It’s a good thing, not knowing why gods do anything. It means you kept a healthy distance.” Chuckling, Vian added with a throaty purr: “But I am SO gonna enjoy you being more famous than me.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Bobby whined. “I don’t even want to think about this right now.”

“Do you?” Vian wriggled his eyebrow and smiled wickedly. “Well I sure know a perfect way to take your mind of things.”

“Huh? What are you talking of?”

Instead of an answer, Vian pulled Bobby closer against him, until Bobby could feel his boyfriend’s cock pressing against his thigh. Again, Vian purred deeply.

“Not again! Don’t tell me you’re still horny after last night!”

“What? I am a healthy young man, of course I am horny. Don’t you tell me you are not.”

“I am not.”

“Really?” Vian’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and just to prove his point, he started massaging Bobby’s butt. “Not even a little?”

“No.”

Vian took Bobby’s hand and put it on his chest, cupping his muscles, gently burying Bobby’s fingers in his fur. “What about now?”

“Nothing…” Taking a deep, sensual breath, Bobby insisted: “Absolutely nothing.”

Moving up Bobby’s hand even further, Vian brought it up to his lips and kissed Bobby’s findertips.

“Now?”

“Uh… nothing…” Bobby whispered, his voice husky.

Vian took Bobby’s index and middle finger, suggetively licking along them, smiling at the gently rasping sound of his tongue against human skin.

“And now?”

Bobby’s reply was nothing but mumbled nonsense, but the way his body arched against Vian’s was all the answer he had been waiting for.

“Just as I thought,” he said when he rolled Bobby to the side so he could lie on top of him. “Just as I thought.”


End file.
